


keep me close, keep me quiet

by highboys (orphan_account)



Category: Danball Senki
Genre: Future Fic, Gratuitous porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/highboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In some distant future, at some point in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep me close, keep me quiet

1.

 

 

At 6 am, Jin wakes with the first slant of light. It creeps in, slowly, past the open windows, the carpeted floor. Spans the width of Ban's bare shoulder, golden and warm.

Jin does not spend hours watching Ban sleep. He does not memorize the exact slope of Ban's neck, or the jut of his jaw. He cannot form coherent words, platitudes that fall frail to Ban's breathing, cannot trace the swell of Ban's cheek with his tongue. But he can want, and want, and want.

He waits.

 

 

2.

 

 

A tray of tea and bread waits for him, outside. It is still hot to the touch, and he balances it with his hands, slow and careful. He puts it on the small coffee table and sweeps aside Ban's jacket, strung haphazardly across a chair. He takes a seat, and pours some tea into his cup.

He takes a spoonful of cream and a bit of honey, with his tea. When Ban joins him, Ban prefers to fill his cup with sugar -- honey, in its absence. Ban takes pleasure in drowning Jin's quiet with his chatter; sometimes he falls silent, as if remembering some far off memory in his cup. Other times, Jin has to bend to quiet his mouth with distraction.

It will have to wait, Jin thinks, as he breaks his bread in half. For now, there is only silence. Tea, and silence.

 

 

3.

 

 

Jin is reading a book and finishing the last of the sugar cubes when Ban opens his eyes. Ban is immovable, a prone body that barely twitches as it sinks deeper into the pillows. It is the only way Jin knows he is awake, because Ban is never restful, always an awkward bundle of energy in his sleep. Jin gives him five minutes before he starts talking. Ten, if he is in a generous mood.

"Your curtains," says Ban, the epitome of misery, "they're gone."

The corner of Jin's lips twitches, slightly. "Hm."

"Did I do that last night?" Ban groans, burying his face under the sheets. "Is that why I'm getting a fistful of sunshine in my face at an ungodly hour?"

When he wakes, Ban sounds like Kazuya. Jin has spent enough time with him to not feel unsettled by this, but something still coils in his stomach. Jin considers the last dregs of his tea and opts to keep his peace.

"Good morning," Ban tells him as he gets out of bed. He wraps the sheet around his shoulders; it trails behind him as he makes his way to Jin.

"Good morning," says Jin. He shivers as Ban bends lower to press a kiss against the hollow of his throat, low, low, lower. Ban makes a happy sound as Jin turns his head to kiss the tip of an ear; the skin blossoms red, under his teeth.

"Sorry," says Ban, suddenly. He pulls away before Jin can reach his mouth. "Morning breath," he explains. Jin wants to wipe away the regret in his smile with his tongue, but he can only watch as Ban shuffles away to the bathroom.

It is not that Jin particularly minds; it is just that there are some things Ban's mother has ingrained in him that he can never rebel against, even in the choice of life or death. Jin wonders which this situation is, in that context.

"Where's," says Ban, just as Jin says, "Top left of the medicine cabinet."

"Aha," says Ban, triumphant. There is the sound of running water, and Jin listens as Ban rummages around for the toothpaste.

He is on page fifty five when Ban emerges from the bathroom. Ban takes a seat across him and makes a face.

"It's cold," says Ban, woeful.

"It does that," says Jin.

"I wish I were home," says Ban. "Then I'd make mom heat something for me."

"And live a life of cereal?" Jin asks, genuinely curious.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?" Ban accuses. He points the edge of his teaspoon at Jin. Jin shakes his head, but he is smiling, by now. "I knew it!"

"I would never," says Jin.

"Promise?"

Jin turns a page.

"Hey!" Ban says. He sighs and sags against his chair. "Rich boy problems."

Indeed.

 

 

4.

 

 

Sometimes Ban eats with grease on his fingers, dirt and oil a given he has not outgrown. Quietly, Jin despairs. Privately, he relishes in it. The grease, he gets from tweaking with his LBX late at night, just a few more minutes to make it perfect. Dirt, from a misguided attempt at sneaking into Jin's room and falling on the flowerbed the first few times, dragging the curtains down with him. Oil, as he pours it onto his fingers, bent over Jin's hips, reaching behind to crook his fingers inside himself, panting Jin's name into his shoulder as he touches himself.

It is the only deliberate stain Jin can permit, on Ban's skin. And like all good things, it is the quickest to dry, and the last to remain.

"You're getting that look in your eyes again," says Ban.

Jin purses his lips. "What look?"

"That look you get," says Ban, "when you want something. When you're looking at me."

"I always look at you," says Jin, honestly. As far as he can tell, his face is as impassive as it always is, but Ban must find something in it that pleases him, because he looks at Jin like he cannot imagine being anywhere else.

Ban's hands pause in tearing his melon pan. He touches Jin's knee. Crumbs line the white of Jin's clothes. "I know," says Ban. "I know."

It is the only truth Jin knows in his life.

 

 

5.

 

 

There are some things Ban likes about Jin's carpet. It is soft. It is clean. The rug burn, he could do without.

All this, Ban tells him, as he kneels in front of Jin and palms his crotch with lazy fingers. His mouth, it toys with Jin's zipper. The sheet lays discarded in a messy pool at their feet; it is a habit Ban has yet to break.

Ban makes a show out of pulling the zipper down. He likes to play this game, to test how long before Jin's composure falls into the cracks of his skillful, persistent fingers; some days he is disappointed when it takes longer, but there is some guarantee that he will get a reaction.

Today is not one of those days.

"Don't you have a meeting today,' says Jin. His voice is still calm but his fingers trap Ban's head where it mouths at the visible tent of Jin's underwear.

Ban snorts, exhaling loudly enough that Jin shivers. "You make it sound like some dinner with the board of directors. It's just Kazuya and Ami."

"Saviors of the world," says Jin, dryly.

"Exactly," says Ban. "No big deal, right?"

"I wonder." Jin supposes that by extension he should consider Ban's friends his own, and yet...

"Ami's gonna love this," says Ban, rolling his eyes and pulling down Jin's briefs, impatient and annoyed. "I offer you a blowjob and all you think about is them."

No, not just that, precisely. More like, how Jin does not need anyone in his life the way he needs Ban.

"Should I be insulted?" Ban asks, biting his lip.

"Get to work, then," says Jin, like sex with Ban is a chore, like Ban's mouth isn't the most damnable thing in existence. It isn't, and it is.

"Whatever," says Ban, his words muffled as he licks the tip of Jin's cock and sucks at the dribble of cum. "I bet you do this what that sexy secretary of yours."

"Wrong sexual orientation," says Jin. It is a miracle he can still speak, with the way Ban's tongue is running the length of his cock, his hand busy at the base. The other disappears below, hidden by the sheets, but Jin knows him well enough to know that he is touching himself, too.

"The one with the short skirts?" Ban says. His voice is already breathy, hushed. "I was talking about the hot guy with the glasses. With the designer suits."

"Ban," says Jin, pained, "shut up."

Ban huffs at that, but he is amused enough. Jin longs to replace that amusement with something more lewd, more profane. He leans forward and digs his thumbs into the small of Ban's back, pulling him upwards.

Ban kisses him, softly. It is chaste compared to the way he thrusts forward as their cocks brush each other's skin; Jin sucks at his lower lip, promising and needy, but Ban laughs into the kiss, all tiny, chocked whispers of breath that swell louder into a full-bodied laugh.

"What?" Jin asks, perplexed. He waits for Ban to recover enough, for him to sag against Jin's chest and quiet his sounds with the reminder of Jin's body.

"I was just thinking," says Ban, "did we ever get the stains out of your chair at your office?"

"Yes," says Jin, shortly. It is a testament to his will power that he does not even blush at that. Or maybe he does, because Ban is positively howling by now.

"They must think you have an insatiable boy toy, by now," says Ban.

"Husband," says Jin.

"Husband?"

"Yes."

Something in Ban's expression goes soft; he touches his forehead to Jin's brow and kisses the edge of his mouth. Jin releases the breath he has been holding; he clutches at Ban's arms like a lifeline, like a pleading man.

"Yeah," Ban amends. "Insatiable husband. I can live with that."

 

 

6.

 

 

When they were younger and less prone to exploration, more cautious and aware of each other's bodies, Ban would line their cocks together experimentally and rock into Jin's hips until they came, light-headed and confused and not a little overwhelmed.

Now there is a spare bottle of lubricant in the bathroom, and a near-empty one under his pillows. The years are filled with trial by error, with reticence morphing into openness, with uncertainty evolving into comfort. Jin wonders where his younger self went, the boy unused to physical touch and unfamiliar to the feel of kisses and tongues, but he is still there, inside of him. He is the boy who looked at Ban once and thought, _I have found you. I know you. You have defeated me, completely._

And Ban still conquers him, even as Ban surrenders to heated, open-mouthed kisses as he rides Jin's cock, sweat-soaked skin slippery against Jin's hips that Jin has to hold him close and never let go. He wins when he buries his head into the crook of Jin's shoulder, gasping and trembling at the quickening of his pace, the liquid burn of arousal heady and staunched, sharpened by the bruises Jin's fingers leave, on his thighs. Marks that seem to keep score of how Jin loses every battle.

When Ban comes, he waits for Jin to finish, riding it out with the familiar motions of Jin's shallow thrusts. Jin is always greedy for Ban, despite the denial in the slant of his mouth. He laps up the perspiration across Ban's back with his palm, leaving Ban chilled, aching to the bone. His mouth, hot and haunting, a counterpoint to the coolness of his gaze, fixated, attentive, even as his own sight is unfocused, scattered.

He can only feel Ban.

They lay together on the armchair, a messy tangle of limbs and sweat; Ban's body shudders as Jin's cock slides out of him. He makes a low, keening sound, saying, "No, no, no."

"Your friends," says Jin. "They're waiting for you."

"Let them wait," says Ban. His teeth are an anchor ready to dig and settle into the soft flesh of Jin's ear, his clavicle, his throat.

It is still difficult to form coherent sentences when he is trying to catch his breath, but he says, "You'll be late. Don't blame me for it."

Ban keeps him pacified with a kiss, but only barely. "One more," says Ban. "I can take it."

Ban's eyes are dark, darker than Jin remembers them to be. In his mind, Ban is this bright, impassable figure, something borne of hope and meaning, of days spent waking in rumpled sheets that smell of sex.

"Hello," says Jin, rubbing his thumb against Jin's mouth, still slick and wanting.

"Hello," Ban whispers back.

Ban has a habit, Jin reminds himself. It is to leave as much of himself on every space Jin breathes in, so that he would not forget.

 

 

7.

 

 

Jin carries Ban to the bath tub, only because Ban complains that his back aches and his legs hurt and it is completely Jin's fault, as if he did not initiate anything and insisted. But Jin lets him have his way, partly from guilt, and partly because he can never resist anything Ban asks of him.

Ban steps into the barely full tub gingerly, still clutching at the sheets that cover the length of his body. "The first step is getting in naked," says Jin, helpful as always even when he is snide.

"I know that," says Ban, scowling. "It's just freezing, okay?"

Jin just smirks at him some more as Ban sinks into the water with a sigh. He looks besotted, most likely, if the way Ban looks at him is any indication of it. A pair of idiots, the both of them.

"Well?" Ban says, when he finally finds his voice. "Get in, then."

Jin strips out of his shirt, then his pants. His underwear, next. Sometimes Ban likes to joke about how Jin insists on staying clothed outside of sex and bathing, but for now Ban is content to watch, and perhaps flick some bath water at him once in a while.

The tub is large enough for both of them, but small enough that the fit is tight and their limbs knock together. Jin settles against Ban's front, if only to keep him still in a single space. Ban hums against the nape of Jin's neck as he pours water over Jin's hair. Jin lets him.

Ban entertains himself by sculpting Jin's hair with shampoo and bubbles. Jin leans against his chest, content and sleepy despite Ban's distracting hands. When Ban finally speaks, he barely catches the words.

"What?" Jin says. His own voice sounds groggy, distorted.

"I said, when you called me your husband—"

Jin closes his eyes, mortified. Luckily, Ban is a patient man.

"Are we married now?" Ban asks.

Jin looks at him. "Do you want to be?"

Ban stares at the ceiling as he ticks off a list with his hand. "I sleep in your bed. I have a toothbrush in your bathroom. My clothes are in your closet or scattered across your room. I have sex with you on a near daily basis. Also, you've met my parents and my mother loves you enough to want to put you in the family register. Yes, I think that constitutes a relationship."

"But not marriage," says Jin. He doesn't know if he should be disturbed that he is getting proposed to in a roundabout manner in his bath tub, but stranger things have happened. This is probably what adulthood finally feels like. Surreal.

"Nope," says Ban, cheekily. "You haven't given me a ring yet. And I haven't said yes."

Jin takes his hand and strokes his knuckles. "I don't even know your size."

"You can give me one of those plastic rings they give out as prizes from cereal boxes, then."

"No," says Jin immediately, horrified.

"I love those rings!"

"I think a real one would suit you better," says Jin. "But you have to forgive me when I say this is the worst proposal I've gotten."

"And made," says Ban.

"And made," Jin amends.

"That's okay," says Ban. "I figure we can't be perfect heroes all the time."

 

 

8.

 

 

_In some distant future, at some point in time._

 


End file.
